The carnivalesque celebration of a slack laborer icon on a talent show: Civic engagement,commercialization,and political control

Talents shows: Mediatized contests or carnival

Media events theory, conceptualizing media representations of significant events as power-related media performances (Dayan, 2008; Dayan and Katz, 1992; Hepp and Couldry, 2010), has been adopted to examine the power relationships behind talent shows. Mediatized contests are typical media events developed through the narrative of contestants competing for a winning position (Dayan and Katz, 1992). In the broadcasting of contests, the rule of equal competition is emphasized more than who will triumph (Dayan and Katz, 1992). By highlighting equality, contestants—regardless of the winner and loser—as well as audiences participate in the construction of a common ‘we’ in the liminal moments of togetherness (Dayan, 2008; Dayan and Katz, 1992). The ritualistic celebration of equality and unity in mediatized contests legitimizes the central status of event organizers in society and the privilege of the media in framing the social center (Couldry, 2003; Hepp and Couldry, 2010). That is, event organizers and media have the power to mobilize symbolic resources to construct the social center and shape the social order, affecting audiences’ perceptions of social reality.

Conceptually, talent shows are mediatized contests (Couldry, 2003; Dayan and Katz, 1992), where ordinary contestants showcase their extraordinary talents in the hopes of becoming an ‘idol’ (de Bruin and Zwaan, 2012). These talent shows emphasize that every contestant has equal opportunities to become an idol (de Bruin and Zwaan, 2012). In the consumption of talent shows, audiences integrate into the transformation of contestants from ordinary to extraordinary and celebrate social equality and harmony (Reijnders et al., 2007). The successful production of talent shows and their resonance with audiences consolidate media producers’ power in cultural production and consumption (Couldry, 2003; Hepp and Couldry, 2010; Turner, 2006). The idols born in talent shows take a central position in society (Reijnders et al., 2007), shaping audiences’ cultural identities (Turner, 2014). Additionally, media producers’ economic power is reinforced because talent shows and idols are faddish products for cultural consumption (Turner, 2006, 2014).

Media events theory discusses the consolidation of event organizers’ power via ritualistic performance. In doing so, it assumes the passivity of the audience. Audiences become submissively involved in mediatized contests; their perception of social reality is manipulated by event organizers. However, recent media events studies suggest that audiences might actively consume mediatized contests, particularly via social media platforms (Dayan, 2008; Frosh and Pinchevski, 2018). To capture the audience’s role in media events and its implications, this research incorporates the concept of carnival (Bakhtin, 1984), aesthetic public sphere theory (Wu, 2011, 2017), and the concept of structures of feeling (Williams, 1977). A carnival refers to an event in which social order and hierarchy are suspended for a new form of social connection (Bakhtin, 1984). In the new media context, mediatized contests may shift to carnivals. Compared to traditional media such as television, new communicative platforms such as social media are less structured (Frosh and Pinchevski, 2018). On social media, event organizers are not as powerful as they are on controlled traditional media when constructing mediatized contests (Dayan, 2008; Liang, 2017). Audiences are empowered to have their voices heard, reconstructing mediatized contests into carnivals. In carnivals, audiences’ critical voices might elicit an aesthetic public sphere. The theory of the aesthetic public sphere claims that mediatized entertainment is connected to broader public discourse (Wu, 2011, 2017). When engaging in the aesthetic experiences provided by mediatized entertainment, audiences often critically reflect on complex social issues (Wu, 2011, 2017). As audiences express their critical opinions on carnivalesque social media, they might also engage in certain forms of online activism. Yang (2009) suggests that online activism represents an emerging alternative social formation that is not yet fully developed. In this sense, Yang (2009) contends that online activism reflects what Williams (1977) termed ‘structures of feeling’, signifying emerging meanings and beliefs rather than established ones.

A review of the literature suggests that mediatized contests in general, and talent shows in particular, are subject to the concurrence of top-down and bottom-up construction in new media ecology (Frosh and Pinchevski, 2018). Event organizers initiate mediatized contests to reinforce their central status in society. However, audiences have agency. Based on carnivalesque social media, audiences might engage in critical interpretations of mediatized contests that have alternative implications. This theoretical framework serves to understand the power dynamics behind Chinese online talent shows. Before applying the framework to our analysis of Produce Camp 2021, scholarly discussions of Chinese talent shows are reviewed.

Chinese talent shows: Political enlightenment or political fantasy

After the economic reform initiated by the Chinese Party-State in 1978, Chinese television was transformed from a propaganda tool into a state-owned medium with market orientation (Zhu and Berry, 2009). Although the Party-State still exercises power over Chinese television, it seldom actively directs television content as it did in the pre-reform era (Zhu, 2019, 2020). Current political control takes the form of self-censorship by television professionals and ad hoc top-down censorship from the Party-State (Bai, 2014; Zhu, 2019, 2020). In this way, Chinese television programs have been granted a certain level of freedom to meet market demand (Zhu, 2019). In this context, entertainment programs have appeared on Chinese television (Bai and Song, 2014; Zhu and Berry, 2009), including talent shows based on Western formats, such as Super Girls originating from American Idol (Bai and Song, 2014; Meng, 2009; Yang, 2014). The talent show format appeals to Chinese audiences as it addresses their longing for upward mobility (Meng, 2009; Yang, 2014). Moreover, the voting mechanism in talent shows affords Chinese audiences ‘a taste of universal suffrage’ (Meng, 2009: 266).

The popularity of talent shows in China has attracted scholars’ attention. Some scholars claim that talent shows enlighten Chinese audiences politically and provide them with opportunities for democratic participation (Cui and Zhang, 2017; Wu, 2011, 2017; Yang, 2014). Focusing on talent show fans in China, Yang (2014) found that fan activities often have political implications. It has been observed that fans use the voting mechanism to form fan communities and protest against producers when their idols face injustice (Yang, 2014). Cui and Zhang (2017) demonstrate that female fans, inspired by their idols, construct an alternative female identity to defy normative femininity. Based on aesthetic public sphere theory, Wu (2011, 2017) further demonstrated the association between audiences’ entertainment experiences and political exchanges. Audience discussions of talent shows and contestants extend to public discourses concerning social fairness and cultural policy (Wu, 2011, 2017).

However, other scholars have not acknowledged the political significance of Chinese talent shows. From a political economy perspective, Meng (2009) illustrates that audiences’ participation in Chinese talent shows, though containing a carnivalesque dimension of resisting the elite, has been exploited by producers for commercial profits. Audience labor contributes to the creation of talent shows as spectacles, legitimating the media's power over audiences (Meng, 2009). Consistent with Meng (2009), Cui and Lee (2010) contend that although the media world is open to audiences during talent shows, media reclaim the power by emphasizing the hierarchical distinction between extraordinary idols and ordinary audiences in the end. Besides strengthening the media's power, the Party-State's power is reinforced since talent shows are produced within the media institutions set up by the government (Meng, 2009). Furthermore, the Party-State intervenes in talent shows, though in an ad hoc manner. For example, the Party-State criticized Super Girls for spreading vulgar and shallow values (Bai, 2014; Meng, 2009) and in the name of promoting healthy entertainment, the Party-State restricted the number of television talent shows and prohibited mass voting to avoid a potential threat to its ruling legitimacy (Bai, 2014). As another example, in the show Rap of China, the most popular rapper was condemned by the Party-State, concerned that rapping would incite young people toward collective resistance due to its provocative characteristics (Wu, 2019).

In sum, scholars have debated the power dynamics behind Chinese talent shows. One emphasizes the empowerment of audiences, while the other stresses the consolidation of the status quo. This scholarly debate is based on talent shows on Chinese television. With the development of digital technologies, talent shows such as the Produce series, which is based on the Korean show Produce 101, have become popular in Chinese streaming media (Fung, 2019; Yoshimitsu, 2020). Chinese streaming media are operated by private Internet companies, such as Baidu and Tencent (Fung, 2019; Zhu, 2020), and while they are not affiliated with the Party-State, they are still under political control (Zhu, 2020). The production, distribution, and reception of online talent shows have not been examined thoroughly. Following scholarly discussions on television talent shows, this study aims to investigate the power dynamics behind online talent shows in China.

Most talent shows on Chinese streaming media are developed according to the Korean format, which emphasizes audience participation (Lee and Zhang, 2021; Zhang and Negus, 2020). Korean talent shows are components of the K-pop idol production system (Lee and Zhang, 2021; Zhang and Negus, 2020). Influenced by the Japanese pop industry, Korean idol production targets ordinary young people as idol candidates and involves audiences early in their career development, mainly through social media (Zhang and Negus, 2020). By this logic, Korean talent shows, such as Produce 101, assign audiences the identity of ‘the national producer’, and this is echoed by Chinese online talent shows (Lee and Zhang, 2021; Yoshimitsu, 2020). As ‘the national producers’, Chinese audiences actively vote for their most-liked idol candidates online (Yoshimitsu, 2020). Their active voting is further facilitated by an online voting mechanism consisting of free basic votes and charged additional votes, which also originates from Korea (Yoshimitsu, 2020). The charged additional votes provide audiences with more chances to shape the fate of idol candidates. Furthermore, similar to Korean producers, Chinese producers encourage audiences to advertise their liked idol candidates through user-generated social media content (Yoshimitsu, 2020; Zhang and Negus, 2020).

Talent shows on streaming media provide more opportunities for audience engagement on the Internet. However, does this mean that the audience is more empowered? This study investigated Chinese audiences’ participation in online talent shows and their connections to public discourse based on their discourse on social media. We also examined the responses of streaming media and the government to audiences’ discourse, especially critical discourse. Through this examination, we aim to disclose the power dynamics in the production, distribution, and reception of Chinese online talent shows as well as the unique features of Chinese online talent shows in relation to global formats, particularly the Korean format.

Audience: Celebrate ‘laborer’ Lelush's slackness in a carnival

In Produce Camp 2021, Lelush was portrayed as a lethargic and unambitious contestant. Despite the challenging training and stage performances, Lelush consistently avoided putting in effort; he purposefully sang and danced poorly. Meanwhile, Lelush explicitly claimed that he intended to leave the show. Surprisingly, the audience celebrated Lelush's lack of enthusiasm on social media by creating and sharing slacker memes. A search with the keywords ‘Lelush’ and ‘slack off’ on Weibo and Bilibili resulted in numerous pictures and short videos with slacker memes based on Lelush. In addition, the audience rallied behind Lelush's statements about leaving the show, using hashtags such as #IWantToGetOffWork, #IWantToGoHome, and #FMeansFreedom, which became popular catchphrases on social media.

The audience's appreciation of Lelush's slackness reflected their suffering and resistance as laborers. Currently, many ordinary Chinese label themselves as laborers, which conveys the meaning that ordinary Chinese are constrained by exploitation at work (Yuan, 2020). Specifically, they have to work following the ‘996’ and ‘007’ patterns, which imply working from 09:00 to 21:00 every day, six days a week, and working nonstop for a week, respectively. Lelush, undergoing rigorous training and performing on the show, was like a laborer. As one viewer commented, ‘Lelush's experience is a real reflection of the life of laborers in reality’ (Yummy Fish Ball, 2021). Most audience members, who are laborers, desire to take a break from relentless work. Then, observing that Lelush rebelliously slacked off and tried getting off work in the show, they endorsed laborer Lelush's slackness on carnivalesque social media. By constructing and disseminating slacker memes, such as the ‘tired, really’ meme portraying Lelush as a weary laborer half lying in the corner of the training room as if having lost the use of his limbs (Xiaoguijun, 2021), the audience showed their exhaustion and the longing for rest, and probably imaginatively had some rest. By reposting and commenting on Lelush's desire to leave the show, the audience expressed their own yearning to finish working. For example, one viewer commented:

#IWantToGetOffWork; Lelush is like me, who is assigned a heavy workload. I strongly reject the work. I really want to escape. But I can’t. It was not until 410 days and 17 h later that I could finish work and escape temporarily. (Same Pace, 2021)

As the audience was creating, sharing, and commenting about laborer Lelush's slackness on carnivalesque social media, they formed an online community surrounding the lackluster laborer identity. Identifying with Lelush, the audience, who were the disenfranchised laborers, were empowered to have their voices heard publicly. As they voiced their suffering from work and desire to slack off, they implied their dissatisfaction with exploitation at work, eliciting the aesthetic public sphere. Collectively, a significant number of audience members somewhat engaged in online activism against pervasive capitalist exploitation in China.

In addition, by endorsing Lelush's slackness, the audience was critical of social inequalities and the lack of social mobility in Chinese society. The prevailing ‘F means freedom’ claim is the best illustration. In one round, Lelush received the lowest score, F, from the judge. Then, Lelush claimed delightedly that F meant freedom and that he should go home. Redefining ‘F as freedom’, Lelush assigned a positive connotation to F, inferring a challenge to the rating criteria followed on the show. Although the show emphasized equality, it favored those with outstanding dancing and singing abilities, attractive appearances, and good personalities, meaning contestants, such as Lelush, were put in an unfavorable position. Lelush seemed to realize that the equal opportunity to win was an illusion. Thus, he wanted to leave the show, and be free from the injustice. Some audience members echoed Lelush. As one viewer commented:

#FMeansFreedom, Ha… Lelush does not want to work hard for other people's dreams. [A laughing emoji]. (A dreamer in reality, 2021)

‘Sunsi’: Complexify the carnivalesque celebration of Lelush

In the carnivalesque celebration of Lelush, the audience also claimed that they were ‘Sunsi.’ ‘Sunsi (笋丝)’ literally means bamboo shoots strips. The Chinese character ‘Sun’ (笋) is pronounced the same as another Chinese character, ‘Sun’ (损), meaning harm or be mean to someone. ‘Si’ (丝) is the Chinese transliteration of fans. Put together, ‘Sunsi’ (笋丝)’ refers to unkind fans of Lelush. The ‘Sunsi’ were unkind to Lelush in that they cast many votes in order to continue to see him struggle in the show despite the fact that he wanted to leave. Ultimately, they derived gratification from Lelush's suffering.

Specifically, the ‘Sunsi’ knew that if Lelush had left the show, his laborer persona might have disappeared so they voted for Lelush while commenting satisfactorily,

Lelush cannot get off work as I do. (Cityzine, 2021)

In this case, the ‘Sunsi’ encouraged Lelush to pursue success in the show as they thought that he had a good chance to win with the large numbers of votes received. Their excitement indicated that they attempted basking in the reflected glory of ‘promising Lelush’. Besides, through voting for Lelush, the ‘Sunsi’ had a taste of power. For example, the comment of one ‘Sunsi’ was,

After all, it is rare to have the opportunity to control someone. Given the chance to vote, I just wanted to control Lelush's fate, that is, keeping Lelush at work when he intended to come off duty. (Cityzine, 2021)

Last, it was observed that the ‘Sunsi’ voted because they found the contrast between Lelush being desperate to leave and unable to leave comical. As they voted, many commented joyfully as this viewer noted:

Lelush, the source of my happiness every day. Ha… Vote for him, and he would be there. (VivkeyV, 2021).

When the ‘Sunsi’ voted and commented in this manner, they displayed a lack of moral consideration and were unkind to Lelush. The ‘Sunsi's’ moral disengagement indicated that they dehumanized Lelush. The comments revealed that ‘Sunsi’ viewed Lelush as a means of catharsis, giving them a sense of power and achievement, or entertainment. In this sense, the audience's carnivalesque celebration of Lelush seemed ambiguous. On the one hand, as analyzed before, they identified Lelush's slackness by perceiving him as an actual laborer, but on the other hand, they callously manipulated Lelush as a mere media personality. The audience's ambivalence was exemplified by their re-interpretation of the letter ‘F.’ When many viewers reposted #FMeansFreedom on social media, they re-redefined F as ‘forever, fight, and funny’. ³ While ‘freedom’ reflects Lelush's resonance with them, ‘forever, fight, and funny’ suggested their objectification of Lelush for their gratification. By apathetically widening the power of voting, the ‘Sunsi’ behaved similarly to the ruthless capitalists or the authoritative upper class they criticized when addressing Lelush's slackness. Furthermore, the vote to make Lelush, the underprivileged ‘laborer’ in the show, a winner reflected the audience's complex views on achieving success in society. Although they were disenchanted with social success, as shown by their appreciation of Lelush's claim for freedom, this did not mean that they did not want to pursue success at all. While they used the slacker identity to come to terms with the lack of social mobility, they still hoped that, as the underprivileged in society, they also could have a chance to succeed.

The producer: Strategic use of audiences’ favor of Lelush and commercial gain

The carnivalesque celebration of Lelush, complex as it was, dispelled the myth of equal access to success initially intended by the show. The show did not resonate with the audience as a mediatized contest. However, this does not mean that the producer's power to manipulate symbolic resources for profits is challenged. The producer of Produce Camp 2021 was adaptive. Not occupied with the contest narrative, the producer chose to co-construct Lelush's fame with the audience, using their labor for benefit. With Lelush's popularity, the producer provided him with more screen time, thus contributing to the social media carnival. The producer promoted Lelush by reposting popular user-generated content about him and showing extra footage of him on social media, such as Lelush being idle backstage. Facilitated by the producer, social media posts on Lelush spread more widely, meaning more audience members learned about the contestant, which increased the show's viewership and, in turn, advertising revenue. Moreover, some audience members paid VIP membership to Tencent Video to watch Lelush on the show. Lelush's fans spent significant amounts of money voting for him, thus, the show earned considerable profits from the membership fee and charged additional votes.

The strategic co-construction of Lelush as the iconic slack laborer was made possible with the producer's revisions of the Korean format at the beginning of production. In the Korean version, standards of talent, attractiveness, and appropriate personality traits are closely followed to cultivate all-round idols (Lee and Zhang, 2021; Yoshimitsu, 2020). The advanced K-pop production system supplies numerous trained candidates, making this strategy effective in the Korean market (Lee and Zhang, 2021). Although producers adopted similar standards in China, they were more inclusive in constructing idols, as the Chinese entertainment industry does not have a rich store of trained candidates (Zhang and Negus, 2020). Compared to Korean audiences, Chinese audiences appeared to care less about elite features and were more interested in the unique traits of contestants, according to previous talent shows. Therefore, the producer of Produce Camp 2021 recruited contestants from various backgrounds to cater to Chinese audiences. Apart from candidates trained by talent agencies, there were influencers, comedians, foreigners, and Esports players. The producer intended to fully harness the market by combining the established plan with new trials. In this way, ‘talent’ in talent shows has become more of a generic term for various entertainment features in China. Thus, when Lelush attracted the audience's attention for his slackness, the producer embraced him without hesitation.

Notably, although the producer of Produce Camp 2021 was open to diverse contestants, those who ultimately became idols were still talented and attractive, with appropriate personality traits. This diversity was designed for commercial purposes. Compared with the earlier show, Super Girls, which adopted a no-threshold policy (Wu, 2011), Produce Camp 2021 was limited in its democratic value. One viewer commented that

An NPC is a term used in video games to refer to an unimportant nonplayer character. The existence of NPCs reveals the hierarchy of the show.

The government: The politically and economically motivated tolerance of the public discourse based on Lelush

The audience's discourse on laborer Lelush's slackness is extended to public discourse. Although public discourse implies social critiques, it did not encounter severe political intervention. Compared to Super Girls’ democratic implication and Rap of China's potential to provoke collective resistance, the online activism indicated by the carnivalesque celebration of Lelush in Produce Camp 2021 did not threaten the Party-State's legitimacy. The audience mainly targeted rapacious capitalists but not the Party-State in the criticism of work exploitation. They did not have a specific target in the reflection of social inequality and lack of social mobility. They expressed their discontent but did not engage in any actual protest. Here, it is worth noting that the audience seemed cautious with their online expressions, probably due to past experiences from the censored talent shows, like the media producer conducting self-censorship based on the ‘on-the-job training’ (Zhu, 2019: 171) to avoid being politically sensitive. This self-discipline on the Internet could be seen as a result of the Party-State's increasing use of disciplinary power to control online activity (Yang, 2009). Consequently, the audience has learned to tune their voices, including critical ones, to align with the Party-State's tone.

Apart from posing no direct challenge to the political legitimacy, the discussion surrounding Lelush's slackness served the Party-State's interests as a ‘safety valve’ (Hassid, 2012). As analyzed above, by celebrating the slacker Lelush on social media, the audience expressed their frustrations with work and reconciled themselves with the rare chance of social success. By allowing this discourse, the Party-State could also monitor public opinion and social issues, taking steps to maintain social stability (DeLisle et al., 2016). For example, after gauging the public sentiment from the discussion about Lelush, the Party-State arranged for the Party media to publish articles emphasizing the value of hard work and productivity, such as ‘Not being slack, the 86-year-old scientist's “energetic” schedule’ (Xinhua Daily Telegraph, 2021) and ‘Do not treat slackness as a social phenomenon; working hard is still mainstream’ (Guangming Daily, 2021). Meanwhile, the Minister of Human Resources and Social Security and the Supreme Court collectively released 10 typical cases of the ‘996’ schedule, declaring them illegal (The Paper, 2021). These actions were intended by the Party-State to influence public opinion positively and address the problem of overworking to prevent social unrest. In addition, aside from political benefits, the Party-State economically benefitted from the public discourse surrounding Lelush's slackness. The Party-State used the media for both political and economic purposes (Zhu, 2019). The popularization of the slacker Lelush and its resonance with the audience brought significant profits to streaming media and social media, which in turn benefited the state financially. Scholars have noted that the Party-State recognized and understood the economic potential of media, particularly new media based on the Internet; thus, it might at times, be more lenient in its pursuits of economic gains (Yang, 2009; Zhu, 2019).